Deep Down
by every1-has-an-angel
Summary: No one expects to lose the one person closest to you. She starts her story at the end, hoping beyond hope that someday he will read it, and this end will simply become a stepping stone in their happily ever after.


**The Beginning**

Deep down, I think I always knew I'd end up hurting. That you would inadvertently hurt me. Someone once told me that a promise means everything, but when it's broken sorry means nothing. I never really, truly, understood that until you. I should have known that things would only get worse as time went on, that everything would only hurt more. You promised me the world and everything in it, but there was only ever one thing I truly wanted.

You.

You were the world as far as I was concerned. But you promised too much, and kept too little. And, in the end, there's only so much a girl can take before she has to say enough. I took more than my fair share because I was so convinced that you would change, that I would be the one to change you.

I should have known better.

I should have known when you constantly broke Maria's heart. I should have known when you had a steady trail of girls in and out of your bed. I should have known the first time you broke a promise you'd made to me. I should have known every time you ignored me, or didn't respond, or made me last on a priority list. But I was stupid and far too occupied with how amazing you could be, how beautiful you made me feel.

I suppose made is the main word now, now that I know it was all just a way of making sure you had a back up, someone that would be there whenever you needed. To you, I wasn't a person, not really. I was just someone to take advantage of. You said you wanted me to be happy, that you would do anything to help me, that you loved me. I can see now, looking back, that you were really very clever with your deception. You knew exactly how to play me. The words you said were timed well. Whenever I felt insecure, you'd quickly tell me how beautiful I was, said sweet words about my body, would jokingly say that at least if my brain failed me I'd still have my looks. Times like those I really felt like I loved you. It was those times that, I suppose, showed me just how bad things were most of the time. The times when it would just be me and you, when we'd talk for hours about everything and anything, were the ones that gave me the reason I needed to pull away from you. Two ironies within our relationship then; the first that we spoke more when you had a girlfriend, the second that the sweetest, most tender, most loving moments were the ones that brought about our downfall. Because, eventually, as they began to become increasingly rare along with the intimacies we had previously shared, I began to realize that something was very wrong.

But I suppose that starting from the end is not the best idea. I'm sure you want to know everything. I cannot promise you that things will not be left out, or that I may have changed things slightly. I mean, three years is a long time, but I promise I will try my best to get our story right, at least my view of it. I do not expect you to read this, but I do think you deserve the opportunity to understand why I did the things I did.

I suppose I should start right from the beginning, before I met you. A brief overview of my life up until you. I was born and bred in Essex by both of my parents, each struggling with their own difficulties to notice mine too much. That was fine by me, I was far too private to want people prying and trying to solve problems that were not theirs to solve. I always found that despite having a tight group of friends, I was much more comfortable alone. That's why, when I met Jake, I was in heaven. We talked everyday, and I never grew tired of him. Far enough that I didn't see him all the time yet close enough to see him sometimes. It was just perfect. However, he seemed to only want to be friends, with maybe a bit on the side, while I wanted an actual relationship with him. I suppose that being an only child and alone so much, left me the time to be romantic and dream about loving someone. And dream I did.

I dreamt about having someone hold me in bed, kiss me whenever he could, someone I could spend hours talking to about whatever came to mind. And I found someone I shared that with. Well, I thought I did. Jake ended up not quite meeting the bill. We wanted more from each other than either of us was willing to give. But neither of us really had the heart to end it. So, we carried on. Through other boyfriends and the subsequent heartbreaks, he was always there for me. Until you. There was a heartbreak he wasn't around to witness. He rightly called it quits when I stopped listening to the logic everyone was yelling. And yelling they most certainly were. I became the girl I always laughed at, although not quite to the same extreme. I was neglecting everything just for some guy. My grades started to suffer. My parents were worried about me. I was losing sleep because I would stay up talking to you for hours on end. I loved it. I was addicted to you.

Then came Heartbreak Number 1.

We'd been talking about a month. At first, it had been occasional, just whenever we were both online, the odd texts here and there. You said you didn't want to run out of credit so couldn't text too much, and you were only online at random times because you hardly spoke to anyone on it. I mean, they were both perfectly valid explanations. We started speaking more and more. Then one night, you started asking me about my relationships again, almost as if you suspected me of lying. Looking back, I imagine it was more than likely that you were hoping that if I came clean and said I wasn't single your lie wouldn't seem so bad. Then I got the text. The text that simultaneously broke my heart and made me angrier than I had ever been before, simply with half the words you had sent. You said you were sorry, that you didn't mean to keep it from me but that you felt something for me so didn't want to scare me away. Bullshit. You wanted to fuck me and figured you could keep her from me without any problems at all. But, like the romantic I was when it came to you, I ignored my gut instinct to walk away and kept on talking to you. I put up with the 'don't text back' at the end of so many messages, and the hiding, the late night chats, because I honestly believed that in the end, when we got our chance, we would be together.

Then came Heartbreak Number 2.

You and Maria had just broken up and, at last, we had our chance. And I was ready to take all risks, because by that time I was so consumed with you. I'd tried dating other people, and we had survived it all. But this, this was something we nearly didn't survive. The weekend after you had broken up, we were due to meet. I was visiting Stoke to look round the local universities, and it was the perfect opportunity. Or so I thought. I had free time on the Sunday, and so did you. But you woke up late, and then forgot to swap shifts. So we didn't meet. The next week, once we'd finally talked about everything and were back to our previous routine, you asked me to be yours. You had it all planned. We'd alternate, and once a month we'd meet for the weekend. We would be together, and we'd be happy. No more hiding, no more secrets. At least, I had no more secrets, and I didn't hide anything about us anymore. For you though…well, as far as I know, your mother is still unaware of our relationship. And your friends didn't know until a few months after this. And this is ultimately what led to our downfall. For about a week, it seemed incredible. I think I was high on the joy that I was finally yours. But then I started to see sense and I noticed that really, not a lot had changed. You still didn't text around your friends or parents, you didn't save my number, you deleted all the texts between us and the majority of our communication took place at night. This is when we started to fight. It began as little things, small tiffs about how little we were talking, or me getting upset when you would just ignore me. They quickly escalated until we called it off. But we kept talking. You said it was just the distance, that was all, and we would give it another go when I lived closer. And, like a fool, I believed you.

From there the heartbreaks only continued.

Our normal routine continued after our initial break up. I was due to go away in July for a month, 4 days after your eighteenth birthday. I knew our contact would be limited, but you assured me that you would email me all the time. You even wanted me to sneak my phone with me so you could call me and text me still, so you wouldn't miss me as much. I'd wanted to meet up before I left, like a goodbye and a Happy Birthday thing, but you were working and almost constantly busy in the month or so leading up to my departure. So, with one final call, I said goodbye to you. There was an almost constant worry that you would meet someone else while I was away, a fear that was only fueled by the lack of contact. It was surprising the number of chances I had to email. And I took them. I emailed my friends, family and you most of all. But while I received replies from almost everyone else, I never received one from you. And that hurt because it was another broken promise. One day, it just all stopped. I stopped thinking about you, stopped worrying about how I'd lost you, even stopped missing you as much. That lead to a complete end to all the one-sided contact I had firmly maintained for the first half of my trip. I had finally started to grow up and realize that I was not the same naïve girl that had fallen in love with you. I had made new friends, was much more confident in myself and knew that what we had was never going to be anything more. On my return however, as soon as my phone was on, I received several messages from you that melted any resolve I had to let you go. You've always been like that. As soon as you knew I was home, you rang me and hearing your voice, hearing you say you had missed me…well, I think that was when you really made it deep into my heart. You never left either. No matter what you or I did, you were, and still are, a constant feature in my heart and my head. Even when one screams at the other to stop it, stop thinking of you, to stop letting you in; the other always shows the best parts of our relationship. The times when you were kind, or sweet, funny; when you called me yours, or baby. They were the times I stayed for.

Again, we slipped back into our normal, comfortable routine but there was a difference now. A tension, especially on my end, that hadn't been there before. You had told me why you'd been out of touch that summer; things at home had got so bad you'd moved in with your Nan for a while, and she had no internet so you'd been unable to reply or read anything I'd sent you. For a time I even believed you. But then, another lie was revealed. You may have moved out, but you had access to internet, since you had reactivated and been very active online the entire time I was away. Not that that was all either. For all I knew, you could have only managed to get online quickly, or were using your phone. But, by adding you, I had discovered another secret. You had lied about your last name. You knew that your name was somewhat rare, and that if I was to search for you I'd find you. You had already slipped with this; we'd been talking about double-barrel names, and you mentioned it, but I didn't mention it at the time, thinking maybe you were just talking hypothetically instead of using your actual name. By then though, I really should have learned. Less than a month later I was asking why you had yet to add me, and in the end just asked if there was something you wanted to tell me, because I thought I already knew. You came clean, you had lied about your name, because you felt it was safer and as you revealed each little lie you had told related to this one thing, I felt myself start to pull away.

Then came our first real fight. We had argued before yes, but this was beyond anything we had experienced together. I had been in Stoke with my dad; we were camping in the county for the week around my final open days. We had arranged to meet up one of the days I was there, the day I was due to be basically at your house. At first we were meeting before then and we were going to Alton Towers, a little over an hour away. Then that plan was changed due to our general lack of money. So we were just going to meet for a drink, with you picking me up at the university. The night before this was supposed to happen, you started to freak. You were scared and I could understand that, because I was too. But instead of staying and talking to me about it, you went out and ignored my texts for the rest of the night. As far as I know, you talked about me with your mates and by the time I heard from you at 11 the next day, I had accepted that we would not be meeting. Your mum wanted you to have lunch with her, so you couldn't meet me until after 3, and you had already decided that I would be on my way back to the campsite by then. That was always a problem, you deciding what I was going to do and when. I was a wreck after that, for I had finally reached my breaking point, and we fought like never before. I couldn't tell you anything about the fight, except for it was long and I cried most of the night away curled up in my sleeping bag, wishing that you would come and make things better, or that we could fix this. Deep down though, I suppose I knew then that this was really beginning to fall apart faster than we could fix the seams.

Time passed and eventually we'd started to talk less and less. I missed you, but there was a noticeable improvement in everything about me. Then things went really downhill at home, and all of a sudden I was back talking to you, needing your comfort and support. It was like nothing had changed and I both loved and hated it at the same time. You were everything I had ever wanted, and this was a time when I really saw it. But this lasted less than a month before you kept bringing her into the equation. I knew that you were close to a few girls, but you had never been like this before. Even with Maria you didn't speak about her this much. But Alice, she changed everything. You said we were very similar and that was what had really attracted you to her, but that you were only friends. The evidence seemed to show otherwise however. The constant talking, the lies about where you had been, the very intimate looking photos that were posted of the two of you…this made it difficult for me to ever truly relax while you were close to her. Gradually, this jealousy and mistrust, born from being lied to for years, forced a wedge between us. Now I can see that this is probably what saved us from more pain in the end. Since there was already a slight divide, the final push, when it eventually came in the form of Kate, tore us apart far less dramatically then it would have done had that gap not already existed.

The one thing I never understood through all of this was how you still managed to keep your place in my heart. After our final separation I thought that was it. But as my health went downhill, and my feelings for you never wavered, I began to realize that no matter how long we were apart for, you would always be there in one way or another. You were, in a way, part of the disease I was so desperately fighting. But, while the disease was gradually beaten back, and finally I was given the all clear, you still remained in my heart.


End file.
